


Earn Your Stripes

by PaperAnn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Comedy, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Top Castiel, cupid!Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2412524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We have a problem,” Cas began, his voice grave, “My seraph status has been revoked until further notice.”</p><p>“Wait, like demoted?” Dean crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, “Until you can ‘earn your stripes,’ ‘back on your best behavior’ or something like that?”</p><p>Of course, it was Sam, with all his touchy-feely, I’m-here-for-you-buddy, you-can-cry-in-my-embrace bullshit, who took the step forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, “You can tell us, Cas, we’re friends.  Did they take away your powers?  Are you not allowed to be helping with the missions from God anymore?”</p><p>“Dean was correct,” Castiel shrugged Sam’s hand away, obviously uncomfortable with the touch.  “I’ve been demoted to cherub status.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> None of this really follows the cannon story line, I just took elements from 4x20, 5x14 and turned it into an irrelevant thing that had a whole lot of nothing to do with the apocalypse. Sorry, I'm not sorry. Unbeta'd. The usual.

The green paisley walls were more than Dean could deal with that day as he went through the routine of sharpening his knives, cleaning his guns, and staring at the back of Sam’s head from where it had been tilted over his laptop screen all day. He was restless. Too many things were happening, and with the apocalypse looming here they were.

Looking for salt and burns.

Or the typical monster of the week fuck-all bullshit.

But there wasn’t anything else to do. And if there was one thing a Winchester couldn’t do, it was _nothing_.

Luckily, they didn’t have to wait long, because like clockwork, a very familiar flapping of a trench coat and a breeze sent a light spark of electricity through the room.

“Cas!!” Dean nearly squeaked, and scrambled backwards on his own bed. “Personal space, _Jesusfuck_!”

'Personal space,' due to the fact that said man, had chosen this time to randomly appear _directly_ in front of Dean.

Who was sitting on the bed.

Who, therefore; was at perfect crotch level.

“We have a problem,” Cas began, his voice grave, completely oblivious to the fact that he had nearly gotten his balls cut off.

“Oh yeah? Didn’t seem like you needed much help from us after the last rodeo,” Dean shook off the awkwardness and stood up and walked over to Sam, who was _just now_ noticing the new arrival.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Sam.”

“So? Problem?”

“I thought my re-education was enough when I was called back to heaven,” Castiel began to explain, his eyes downcast on the ground, “But once I was called back again, I found out my seraph status has been revoked until further notice.”

“Wait, like demoted?” Dean crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, “Until you can ‘earn your stripes,’ ‘back on your best behavior’ or something like that?”

“In a way, yes.” Cas still hadn’t lifted his gaze to explain further.

Of course, it was Sam, with all his touchy-feely, I’m-here-for-you-buddy, you-can-cry-in-my-embrace, bullshit, who took the step forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, “You can tell us, Cas, we’re friends. Did they take away your powers? Are you not allowed to be helping with the missions from God anymore?”

“Dean was correct,” Castiel shrugged Sam’s hand away, obviously uncomfortable with the touch. “I’ve been demoted to cherub status.”

\-----------

The boys couldn’t handle much more of the story without hightailing it to the nearest liquor store and picking up a case of beer. Now, they were gathered around the table, jaws dropped, asking questions right and left, and with Dean laughing at completely inappropriate times.

“Dude, you’re a fucking _cupid_ , man!” Dean cackled, for about the hundredth time that day and took another long swig from his beer.

“Yes, that would be what the title entails,” Cas was gritting his teeth, but had his hand wrapped around a beer of his own. His _tenth_ , to be exact. “I am aware of angelic ranking, you know.”

“What the fuck do you even know about love?!” Dean teased, but Sam quickly snapped back:

“Like _you_ , the most emotionally stunted _one of us all_ , has room to talk?”

Castiel chose to ignore both men and continued, “After my... Re-education, they highly suggested I remain in Claire Novak’s vessel, but not only did I not wish this life for a young girl, but I had grown attached to this one,” he admitted, gesturing down to the body of Jimmy.

“Yeah, I can imagine it may be a little more believable if a cute little girl tried to convince you of soul mates rather than a flasher looking dude in the street,” Dean grinned, and Sam gave him another bitch face.

Sam honestly didn’t know what his brother’s problem had been lately, but his jabs at Cas weren’t teasing and playful anymore, they were getting down right _rude_. Luckily, the angel hadn’t picked up on any of the clues, obvious or otherwise, so there was no harm there. That didn’t mean Sam wasn’t going to give Dean shit about it later.

“I didn’t know who else to turn to, I know enough about cherubs from meeting them in heaven, but they are quick to pass through and I’ve never had a chance to hold a conversation. They’re a little too...” he looked as though he was choosing his words very carefully, “ _Friendly_. And I did not wish to be embraced every time I ran into one.”

“Shit. Gotta start doling out hugs, I’m sure Sammy can help you practice.” The older Winchester suddenly turned an interesting shade of pink, “Wait, aren’t Cupids supposed to be like, little babies in diapers?”

“Diapers?” Cas cocked his head to the side, “No. They are usually completely unclothed. It allows them to remain undetected and move through the ether easier, and is irrelevant since they are very rarely in this plane.”

Dean opened and shut his mouth a few times, before Sam couldn’t help teasing, “I think Dean wants to know if you getting naked goes with the job description.”

“If they require it of me.” He looked confused again, but forgot that nudity was sometimes a greater deal to humans. Something that was related to intimacy and other such ideas. “But I’m sure if they allowed me to remain as Jimmy Novak, they will allow me to remain clothed, if that causes you anxiety.”

“Is that a problem, Dean? Did he ruin your little dream of Cupid?” Sam feigned concern to the nth degree, facing his brother.

Dean merely responded by downing the rest of his beer and fetching another one from the fridge without even bothering to ask anyone else if they wanted one.

\----------------

When Dean laid down to sleep that night, he couldn’t get _that_ idea out of his head. It didn’t help the fact that Castiel did, in fact, feel vulnerable and decide to stay in their hotel room with them, alternating his glances between the two brothers and out the window, keeping a silent vigil.

_Damn naked cupids. Stupid stereotypes._

Dean tossed and turned until Cas was suddenly at his side and asked blandly, “Do you need help with sleep, Dean?”

Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded like a pick up line, but Dean was sick of innuendos today. Instead, he decided to mutter, “What, you gonna sing me a lullaby?”

“I suppose that is something cherubs are known for but it’s not something I have much experience with, I could... attempt?”

“No, no, Cas. Joke. It was a joke.”

“Oh,” Castiel’s eyes lit up with recognition, “I was referring to using my abilities to help you reach REM sleep faster, if that’s what you’d like.”

“Yeah, whatever, why not,” he was honestly over the border-line sexual thoughts he was having about his best friend to begin with. “Go for it.”

Castiel sat on the edge of the bed, and raised two fingers close to his forehead, but the second one barely made contact, he drew away and asked in a hushed whisper, “Did I accidentally brush you with one of my arrows?!”

“What?!” Dean’s eyes widened.

Had he read his mind? Those inappropriate thoughts and less than platonic situations on repeat through his damn horny brain?!

Dean grabbed Castiel’s wrist, and slammed those fingers into his forehead.

He wasn’t sure if it was from the angel mojo, or just the fact that Cas was made of steel, but he was knocked out all the same.

_Thank fucking god._

\---------

Accompanying Cas on his first mission was _bizarre_ to say the least. Still, Cas had helped them out numerous times before, so they owed it to him, walking along side as the angel glanced around the bar they were scoping out.

“How do you even know who to pick?” Sam asked, unable to follow the angel’s movements, train of thought, or even much of _anything_.

Maybe it was because Cas was already so awkward to begin with inside this ‘den of iniquity’ as he called it. Dean happened to call it home.

“Our orders are ingrained into our minds. Right now I’m attempting to look for a young woman named Tabitha of Asian decent to be paired with a man named Christopher. They’re destined to breed a child whom finally finds the cure to AIDS.” His explanation was simple, as he walked up to the bar, and the boys followed him. Then he addressed the bartender, “I’d like a drink please.”

“What’ll it be, sugar?” She smiled with a wink.

Sam and Dean both noticed her name tag read Tabitha.

“A whiskey on the rocks, but I need you to deliver it to that man in the corner right over there,” he pointed to a side table and then produced an arrowhead from his pocket, “And after you introduce yourself, I’d like you to puncture both yourself, and him with this. In the heart, preferably.”

Sam and Dean balked as the woman shouted, “Get the fuck out _right now_!! Before I call security, you _sick fuck_!”

Castiel tilted his head like he didn’t understand, “But the two of you were made for each other. Don’t you want to be in love and copulate?”

Sam grabbed Castiel by the neck of the jacket at the exact same time Dean looped his arm around his waist and dragged him back, mumbling apologies to the woman about their friend being _way too drunk_ and _having a terrible sense of humor_.

Once on the street, the Winchesters couldn't stop laughing, and had to either use a wall for support, or put both hands on their knees to keep from falling over.

“What the fuck was that, Cas?!” Dean demanded, “It’s love, not a fuckin’ demonic _sacrifice_!”

“I thought they’d want to initiate the love bond themselves, since you _humans_ are all about independence and free will.” He defended and shoved the arrow head back into his trench coat. “But apparently, I was wrong. This is much more difficult than I imagined.”

“Holy shit, I haven’t laughed like for as long as I can remember...” Sam tried to catch his breath, and wipe an errant tears from his cheek, “Dude, let’s just go back and plan something better. Maybe even summon a _real_ cupid? You clearly need some lessons.”

“They prefer cherub,” Cas grumbled, but followed the men back to the Impala, “And don’t say I didn’t warn you about their affectionate nature. I will not be to blame when we are all uncomfortable.”

\-------

They were uncomfortable.

Dean felt the need to for an _immediate_ shower, because Cas _wasn’t_ kidding, after being lifted off the floor, spun around and fucking _nuzzled,_ he knew never to ignore Cas' warnings again. He would have nightmares for weeks. But it was better than the wet dreams he had currently been having about Castiel. Although, now that he could confirm that cherubs were, indeed, usually naked, all his strange fantasy came back.

At least the fat man in front of him was an immediate boner-killer.

“Brother!” He saved Cas, to wrap his arms around, for last, “I’m so glad for once, I can help you out! I feel so honored, I’ve always been in awe and admired your powers and-”

“Please-” the angel pushed the cupid away from him, and admitted with a deep breath, “I have no frame of reference on how to do this. I need guidance and you’ve been highly recommended. Will you please assist me?”

“But of course!” He looked positively gleeful as he clapped his hands together and shimmied, his rolls of fat jiggling with the motion, “But I have to admit, you’ve been going about it all wrong. When I heard about the rank change, I had to see it for myself. You’re a _warrior_ , so you need to think of the bow as a weapon of stealth and remain hidden. It’s best to do the job in the ethereal plane, so they don’t see it coming, and then all will fall into place.”

“Will my failures be forgiven thus far?” Castiel looked like a lost puppy, because as of right now, he was zero for three.

Which, for him, were terrible odds. He was used to the blood and victory of the battlefield, leaving no survivors or evil alive to corrupt the world and now he was failing at this? At something as childish as playing a matchmaker?  This should be child's play for an angel of the lord.

The cupid smiled and clapped him on the cheek, “Don’t worry, first ones are rough. We’ve taken care of them for you.”

“I thank you, brother,” he looked genuinely grateful. “Allow me to accompany you on your next mission.”

“Of course! We will leave tonight! Meet me in Joilet, Illinois, there’s a cute little club there and some innocent love birds just waiting!”

And with that, he poofed off.

Dean could swear he smelled _flowers_ and _chocolate_.  Fuckin' typical.

He was about to say something sarcastic, but the way Castiel just lit up when he turned around, made him stop in his tracks.

“He compared it to a _weapon_.” He was positively gleeful, and Dean could swear there was a glimmer in his eyes. “A weapon. Thinking of it as a _weapon_ , I can handle.”

\--------

Castiel was slowly, but surely getting used to the cupid gig, after he had found a mentor. He’d managed to couple six pairs without incident, and only two misfires, which his new friend was able to fix for him, although somewhat frustratingly because he had his own work to be done. But Dean and Sam couldn’t continue to follow him, and make sure there weren’t incidents when there were _other things_ going bump in the night around the cities.

So Cas decided to take a night off and try to play seraph again, and pay the Winchester back for all the help they had given him.

Although, things didn’t _exactly_ go according to plan.

“Cas, you can’t use that cupid’s bow like an angel blade in battle!” Dean shouted, tearing into the hotel room and throwing his jacket haphazardly over a table and chair. It may have missed all together, but he was too flabbergasted to notice.

Castiel frowned, unable to comprehend what the hunter was upset about, “Why not, I assumed a weapon was a weapon? You interchange your guns and ammo with blades all the time...”

“We’re trying to _kill things_ , not make fuckin’ shape shifters find true love!”

“Oh. I misunderstood. I assumed the arrow’s silver would aid in battle-”

“Great, now we’ve got horny monsters!” Dean threw his hands up in the air and made a dramatic motion to turn around and point, “Don’t pull those fuckers out unless you get a mission. It’s not duct-tape. It can’t fix everything.”

“I wasn’t aware that duct-tape-”

The only thing that answered Cas was the slamming of the bathroom room, and then he looked over at Sam, who had been sitting quietly, enjoying their banter from the comfort of his own bed.

“I mean... At least it was a good distraction? Don’t take what Dean says too seriously, we get it, you’re new at this. And I gotta admit, it was pretty damn entertaining to see those shifters go from homicidal monsters, to love struck puppies... I think it just threw Dean off his game and he didn’t know what to think,” Sam shrugged, “But really, put those arrows away. I don’t want to get a hard-on for the hotel maid or anything on accident.”

“Hard-on?” Castiel echoed.

“Uh. Never mind.”

“Humans certainly are strange.”

\--------

“I don’t know what to do,” Dean admitted honestly, as Castiel was out and about on one of his random ‘apprenticing missions’ with his new bestie cupid, who had the actual balls to ask if he could come out and see what a hunt was like, “How long do you think it’s going to be until he’s back to being a seraph again?! I mean, he can fight, but it’s like he’s a ticking time bomb. Not like, literally. But it freaks me out, all the same.”

“But you’re right,” Sam tried to explain, raising one finger towards his brother, “He still is a good fighter, and he can keep a good grip on those arrows, now that he knows he it’s not the most effective weapon. We can trust him, and he knows what he’s doing.” This time, he used his lifted finger and _jabbed it_ in Dean's direction, “I honestly think, the only _bad_ thing about this, is you’re worried about what would happen if an arrow accidentally hit _you_.”

“What the _fuck_ , Sam, wouldn’t _you_ be worried about the same damn thing?!” Dean looked at his brother like he had grown another head, “That doesn’t concern you _at all_?! That’s like, one of the worst things that could happen in the heat of battle! Rushing off, and making out with whatever _person_ or,” he shuttered for dramatic effect, “ _thing_ was closest?!”

“Heh,” the long brown hair moved with the shake of his head, “Only you. You have been here the last couple weeks, right? It’s _reversible_. The cupid could hear our prayer, snap us out of it before anything happened. Seriously, Dean. What the hell.”

Dean was getting more frustrated and flustered, as he began ripping things from his pack, and suddenly, he felt a slash on the palm on his hand. Only... it didn’t quite _hurt_ , and it didn’t bleed, like one of his random blades would have. It actually felt... Good?

He blinked a few times, and felt his body relax.

_Fuck_. It was one of Cas’ arrows he had left behind.

“Nah. You know what,” his voice was strangely calm. “You’re right. I was freaking out for nothing.”

“Cas can handle himself. We’ve got back up. Sorry, I think I’m still pissed off about that vamp getting the jump on us on us last job. Just needed a deep breath.” He took one, just for emphasis, “Let’s let him know, and we’ll be on our way. Team free will, all the way.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. He was just happy his brother wasn’t being an idiot, and kicking and screaming the entire way, per usual. Maybe he was finally calming down, the rush of adrenaline simmering and the first few beers were kicking in. It didn’t seem too out of the ordinary.

But what Sam didn’t know was that Dean was starting to go crazy with a _new_ form of madness.

He needed to see Cas.

And he needed to see him right. Fucking. Now.


	2. Chapter 2

The Winchesters found the seraph-turned-cupid and real cherub sitting at a park bench arguing over their latest set of orders.

There were over a dozen children running and playing, just having been let out of school and parents were mixed in with playing along, and watching from the sides, chatting with other adults, or staring their children down like hawks. Much like the way Castiel watches over Dean, if he’s not mistaken.

Sam raises an eyebrow as Dean wordlessly slips into the side of the picnic table next to Cas, which leaves Sam’s gigantic frame, squeezing next to a rather obese (but thankfully clothed) cupid.

“I don’t understand why it would even be an issue of interracial siblings, they’re clearly meant for each other,” Cas was arguing with his hands passionately waving, “They were in love before _we_ even showed up. And now we have to _turn_ her affections _elsewhere_?”

“His family wouldn’t accept the black children of a widow,” the cupid explained for what looked to be the 100th time, “She would be happier with a family who loved her _and_ her children. Yes, _they_ are already in love, but it will cause more heartbreak than love in the end, and what’s our motto?” He asked with an eerily happy smirk.

“’We love love,” Cas repeated using air quotes. “But if they’re already in love, they should be allowed to love who they want. This is dishonorable and I can’t be a part of it-” Cas stopped in mid sentence as Dean’s hand landed on his knee and gave it a squeeze.

“Then don’t. Walk away and let the asshole do it for you. Or put up a fuss, you’re good at that too.” He smiled genuinely, but didn’t remove his hand.

Cupid raised an eyebrow, clearly aware of the vibes being sent out from the men across the table. It turned into a smirk, “I’ll let you all handle this one. Free will, and all. Do what you do,” and then with a wink, he was gone.

Cas turned, completely exasperated back to the Winchesters, but before he could begin with his story, Dean’s hand followed him, and was suddenly not just not on his _knee_ , but more holding his _waist_ in a comforting gesture.

“Is this a show of support?” He asked simply, and Dean immediately dropped it, not even realizing what he was doing.

“Huh?”

“Nothing!”

“It’s not like I mind, Dean-”

“It was an accident.”

“I’m decently sure you were-”

“Stop now. Racism baby daddies, please, explain.”

“Well, you see...”

Thank god, Cas was easy to distract, or there might have been a problem. Dean’s hands seemed to have a mind of their own, and no shame at all. Sam was suspiciously quiet, and that by itself was a red flag. But even more of a red flag, was the fact that Dean kept trying to stealthily reach, as casually as he could, under Cas’ trench coat, to grab one of those damn arrows and stab the nerd in the chest with it.

So far, it wasn’t working.

Which was why Dean had to active mission: Platonically sneak into Cas’ trench coat.

Words he never dreamed he’d think. What the _flying fuck_ was his life.

\-----------

In hindsight, it would have been much more effective to just take the arrow head from where he had found it in the hotel room. But it wasn’t like Dean had exactly been _thinking straight,_ all right? All he could think about was getting to Cas. Once he there, his logical side and his damn love-sick side hit a roadblock.

_This isn’t what he had expected at all._

Being hit ( _well, not exactly hit, minor details_ ) with an arrow, would have made Dean assume he’d turn into one of those _sap’s_ he’d watch Castiel pierce before. _Nope_. Didn’t work that way at all. He could _reason_ , he didn't just need to straddle Cas’ lap and grind against him (as much as he wanted to, and _fuck did he want to_ ), he needed Cas to feel the same. He was still in his own mind just... _On steroids._ And it wanted to cupid-magic roofie Cas.

Ok, he guesses _not_ quite in his own mind...

It’d be the same as buying a girl a drink, right? Not that he roofied girl's drinks, of course, that's tacky and terrible, but the angel arrow wasn't like that.  It's be courting. Just a little... More permanent? So like... a ring he couldn't refuse rather than a drink?

_God, he was going to hell._ And if Cas found out what he was doing, maybe he wouldn’t save him this time.

But now all he could think about was getting ‘gripped tightly and-’

“Is there something I can help you with, Dean?” Concern was written all over his features, as Castiel leaned in, and it took all Dean’s will power not to grab him by that stupid tie and assault Cas with his own lips. Instead his settled on a meek, “So... Those arrows of yours? Are they fired like normal ones? Like, is it weighted similar or is it as heavy so just angels can use it?”

“Oh,” Cas’ eyes lit up, “The arrows are warded against any human who wouldn’t have consent, anyway, but yes, they are similar to a normal arrow used on the battle field. I believe these to be more dangerous, and you imagine what would happen if one of these fell into the hands of a forlorn lover? It would be disastrous.”

Well, it would be kind of awkward timing for Dean to ask to ‘hold one, to feel it’ now.  
  
It was a good thing all attempts to 'take off your coat, people are gonna look at you weird because it's too hot today if you leave it on' in order to sneak one out would end in disaster since he couldn't even grab one in the first place.  A whole other kind of awkward.

“Yeah, it would Cas, it would.”

Dean deflated, “So, you hanging out with us tonight, or your BFF cupid?”

“I was hoping to have a meeting with my superiors,” He admitted and looked more and more nervous by the second, “I do not know how well I have been fulfilling my obligations as a cherub, but I miss the battlefield--”

“You can still fight with us!” Dean blurted.

All he could think in his mind was need - _arrows arrows arrows_.

“Of course, Dean, and while I appreciate it,” Cas nodded, “I cannot aide my brethren in battle. And I find this whole situation frustrating.”

Dean’s phone rang and when he saw Sam’s name up on the screen he had no choice but to answer, “Yo, Sammy, what’s up?”

“This place literally doesn’t do takeout. If you want your damn burger, meet me over here and get it yourself.” And that easily, he hung up.

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled on his coat, “Diner time?”

“As you wish, Dean.”

\------------

The entire walk was Dean casually asking more and more about being a cupid, allowing his hands to brush against Cas’ own, and then ‘picking a piece of something,’ out of his hair, and if his hands lingered through his locks a little longer than they were supposed to, so what?

Castiel, for the most part, was oblivious, and asked more than once if Dean was all right.

Finally, Dean just said fuck it, because he could no longer keep his hands to himself anymore and stopped Cas right before they walked through the diner doors. “I’m sorry, I just really want to check out one of those arrows. I don’t even know why myself, I’m just... Intrigued?”

“Why didn’t you just say that earlier?” Cas laughed with good humor, reaching into his coat, “There really aren’t anything special, they’re just-”

And then three things happened at once.

Castiel, all good natured and trusting, placed the arrow in Dean’s hand at his request.

Dean awkwardly felt the weight, and then drew it back ever so slightly to try to get the jump on the angel.

And Sam pushed open the door, mumbling, “About time you assholes got here, I-- _oww!!”_

\-------------

If Dean had been quick on his feet, he would have grabbed the arrow, kept it for later and used it on Cas at a date to be announced.

But now wasn’t the time for regrets. Because _right now_ , Sam was staring off, with _stars in his eyes_ to the man that _Dean_ loved.

“Hey guys,” he greeted, trying to play it cool, like he _hadn’t_ just been _stabbed_ by an arrow, “Glad you ended up getting here, there’s a table waiting and everything-”

“Oh, fuck no!” Dean dropped the arrow on the ground and started stomping on it, as Sam started walking closer and closer to Cas, “Cherub dude! Get your ass down here, and fix this _now_!”

“That’s not how you pray to them, D-” Cas was cut off as Sam’s hands cupped his cheeks and laid a single, rather chaste kiss on his lips.

Cas pushed him off, and put a good amount of distance between them, “I apologize in advance,” Cas brushed a touch across Sam’s forehead and the Winchester dropped to the ground.

“Now do you see what I mean?” Castiel narrowed his eyes, and actually took on an angry tone, “This is why we don’t let these fall into the wrong hands! We need to get him back to the hotel and do a summoning spell.”

“Wait, it’s not as easy as just _praying_?”

“He’s on a mission, and when they’re distracted, the prayer receptors are negated. But this is urgent. We can’t allow your brother-”

“Yeah, I’ll say!” Dean was just as heated, but for _multiple_ reasons, “Here, help me lift him.”

\--------------

Dumping Sam off in their hotel room manually was Dean’s idea, rather than Cas mojoing them back to the place himself. There were many, _many_ reasons for this.

The first, being he didn’t want Cas to touch anyone else but _him_. The second, the time travel still seriously fucked with his body, and last was the most obvious. Last time Cas had touched him, he’d given him a _look_ like he knew about his stupid little crush, and now the fact that he was head-over-heels? _Nope_ , not letting the angel know _that_ for a second. It might get in the way of all his planning.

Dean still needed to come up with a course of action to get the angel to fall in love back.

And now his little brother was being the _biggest cock-block in the history of cock-blocks._

Dean grunted louder than he needed to when he tossed his gigantic sibling down on the bed, out of physical exhaustion and frustration.

Cas was looking at him, with that adorable little head tilt, reminding him in a calm voice, “Do not worry, Dean, after we summon the cupid we can--”

“It’s more than that, Cas!”

He was reaching his breaking point.

The thought of someone else touching his angel, _wanting_ his angel--

_Mother of god,_ now Cas was _his_ angel?

“Dean, I don’t understand-”

And that’s when Dean remembered something. The arrow head. The one that he’d accidentally stabbed himself with.

“Then let me help you, all right? Can you come with me to my room, there’s something I need to show you,” he shrugged his shoulders, and tried to act casual, “Sam will be out for a bit, right? And your little cupid friend won’t be around for another hot sec, right?”

“Yes, these things are all correct.”

Dean wasn’t going to lie. He’d been optimistic, and when he was on a mission, he took an aggressive role. Which was why he had booked a separate room from Sam that night. He told his brother, he was feeling the urge to prowl and bring home a babe with a rocking bod back from the bar, but that was a load of shit. The only thing he wanted was the man in front of him.

This time, this plan may actually work.

“Okay, follow me,” Dean flashed a winning grin, glancing back at Sam only one more time before grabbing the key card from his pocket and leading the way out the door. “It’s just down the hall.”

Castiel nodded, and followed wordlessly. He merely watched as Dean fumbled nervously with the key, it took him three tries to get the light to turn from red to green, and then finally kick open the door. Once inside, Dean immediately headed to his duffle bag.

He was digging for a few seconds before he pulled something out and held it in a closed fist, “I found something of yours, Cas, I just didn’t know when would be a good time to give it back to you.”

Instead of walking directly over to the angel, the taller man curiously walked to the door, and flicked the deadbolt shut, as well as the chain lock. Castiel was _more_ than curious as he approached, “What is it that you-”

Dean held it steady, and gestured out to Cas, but still didn’t open his fist.

With the tilt of his head, Cas wondered if this was another strange human tradition and opened his own palm. Instead of dropping it into his waiting hand, Dean flipped his own and squeezed their hands together until there was a sharp bite along the meat of Castiel’s palm. His mouth went dry as he looked at Dean, and before the arrowhead even dropped to the floor, Dean was slamming Cas into the wall, his mouth hot and sucking on the angel’s.

Castiel tried to gain purchase at the onslaught of human by grabbing at his shoulders, but Dean was too busy trying to pull off his trench coat. That _thing_ had been the bane of his goddamn existence all day and he wanted it gone. The fabric was bunched and a second away from tearing at his elbows before he could get his brain up to speed and toss it aside. The suit coat came quickly after, joining the growing puddle of clothes on the floor next to his trench coat. Dean’s teeth were sucking along Castiel’s collar bone, and that was when he finally figured out what was happening.

The angel pushed him, maybe a little _too_ hard, until Dean’s back hit the door and knocked the wind out of him. Cas took a minute to look over _every inch_ of the man in front of him and lick his lips, “This was what you wanted to show me?”

Dean swallowed, but Cas didn’t stop there.

“You wanted to show me how badly you want to taste me?” Cas let his thumb gently part Dean’s lips with a single, deviously slow stroke.

They were beginning to swell from the hot kisses he had been attacking Cas with, tender from the stubble, but he didn’t want to stop there. Hell, he hated that they were stopping now, but the way Cas was looking at him, looking like he wanted to eat him alive didn't hurt anything-

“You wanted to show me how badly you wanted to touch me?” Cas’ words turned less and less into questions and more into statements, as he slowly undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. “You were trying to get my clothing off so quickly, I thought I’d help the process.”

Dean was breathing hard as his eyes traced along every inch of perfectly toned muscle, he was mouth-wateringly cut and tanned, and love-struck arrowed or not, _Jesus Christ was this man beautiful._ He was toying with his belt, but didn’t look like he was in any rush to take his pants off soon. But _yesyesyes_ he was finally walking back over to where Dean was frozen in place against the door.

“But I think more than _anything_ , you wanted to show me how badly you _wanted_ me,” his finger nails raked over Dean’s denim-clad erection, and suddenly Dean was a whimpering mess.

How quickly these tables had turned.

Castiel’s gravel-deep tone was impossibly _deeper_ , and it wasn’t the words that were getting Dean so hard, it was the demand and authority. He wasn’t the confused, pretend-cherub he had been trying to work at as a mission the last few weeks, he was all _thunder_ , and _might_ , and _full warrior_ again. This was not how Dean saw this going at all. Dean assumed he'd be able to take the virginal angel by the hand and show him the wonders of passionate, gentle love-making. He was _very_ wrong. But, in this case, being wrong wasn't a _bad thing_ , he was more turned on than he had been in his life.

“Get on the bed, now.” Castiel ordered, and moved out of the way, so Dean could do just that. “And take off your clothes.”

Dean didn't know, or care just how this angel ended up kissing the life out of him from above, but he wasn’t mad about it either. Shit, where did Cas learn how to do that with his hands? Dean moaned as Cas bit down his collar bone lower and lower, until he was laving his tongue around his nipple. If Dean had made the joke about them being ‘perky’ before, they were almost as hard as his cock was now. Speaking of which...

Cas’ smooth, bare chest kept almost-grazing it, and it was driving Dean _insane_. He could feel the sticky precum on the angel with every roll of their bodies together, and as much as he wanted to urge him on, he didn’t want the moment to be ruined. He wanted Cas to go at his own pace, since last time they talked about it he was a virgin and he didn’t want him to feel pressured to--

“-- _Holy fuck!_ ”

Dean arched off the bed as Cas swallowed his cock down in one go.

The smug bastard just laughed around it, and the vibrations made the pleasure ring through Dean even deeper and more intensely. He had to bite his tongue, and repeat to himself he was not going to cum like teenager on a first date.

But, _shit_ the things Cas was _doing with his mouth_ -

He couldn’t stop moaning and arching into the heat, and barely noticed his ass cheeks being spread until there was a tongue flicking _some place_ a tongue had _never_ been before on his body.

Dean flushed bright red, and tried to pull away, “Cas, what are you-”

“Dean, I know you have lube here, I saw it when you were going through your bag. I also know you’ve dreamed about me fucking you-”

“Get out of my head!” Dean swatted at him, but Castiel easily grabbed his wrists and pinned them down to the bed.

“So I will touch you however I want.”

There was no room for question. And a shiver of lust rocked through Dean’s body as Castiel slowly released, and whispered, “Now be good, and go grab that lube for me, all right?”

You could practically hear Dean’s gulp in the quiet room, but he nodded and basically ran to his duffle. His cheeks were getting more and more heated because he could feel Cas staring at his ass as he dug. Damn mind-reading suddenly sexy-as-fuck angels getting all demanding and-

“You’re getting distracted,” Castiel tutted, and appeared ( _fuckin’ angel zapped_ ) behind him, hand stroking up and down the globes of Dean’s ass before his thumb teased at the edge of his hole, “I could always get you ready with my mouth instead.”

And if Dean could die of arousal and embarrassment at the exact same time, the moment would have been _now_. Thank god, that was when his hands found the bottle, but before he could hand it over, Castiel took it from him and shoved him forward, face down to the bed.

“What the fuck-”

“It’s what we both want,” Cas explained simply, as he uncapped the lube and coated his fingers with it, “Is this not what you want, Dean?”

_Of course_ , he had to ask while one slippery, cool finger was circling his entrance. It slowly dipped in, for half a second, before massaging around again, teasing and _teasing_.

“Dean?”

“Fuck. _Yes_ , Cas, I want it,” he grabbed at the sheets and arched his back so hard he felt like a goddamn whore, “Now you’re just being a douche.”

Just as he said the word, Cas plunged his first finger into Dean up to the knuckle and noticed the sharp intake of breath from the man underneath him. “What was that?” He asked innocently, as he worked the finger in deeper, until it was buried all the way inside him.

“Nothi-” Dean’s words were cut off as a second slowly began twisting inside him as well.

It felt weird, but _everything_  he wanted and _more_. Fuck, he just wanted _Cas_. And being face-down on a mattress with the angel two fingers deep inside him counted as him doing _pretty good_. Especially, when he curled his fingers _just the right away_ , and Dean nearly screamed, “Holy shit, do that again."

Cas just laughed, and ignored him, instead he ordered, “Relax, Dean,” pulling his fingers out just enough to make room for a third.

Yeah, it hurt a little bit, just if Cas was gonna do what he had done just a few seconds ago again, he could deal with it.

Cas draped his body over top of Dean’s as he slowly twisted and worked in the three, he whispered, “You won’t even need my fingers. I’ll touch you so _deep_ inside. Right where you _crave_  it, with my cock.”

Yep, Dean knew he was done for, and bucked up into the assault, “Then please, hurry, Cas. Need it now.”

“You still need to relax,” Cas tried to emphasize his point by thrusting his fingers in and out of Dean a few times, the man was still wincing. “You need to trust me. Please.”

Fuck, _of course_ he trusted Cas. He _loved_ Cas, he was just too eager, just wanted this too bad in the moment. So he took in a deep breath and nodded, and the angel pressing a few kisses between his shoulder blades and along his neck actually helped a whole hell of a lot. Soon enough, there wasn’t as much tension, it was easier for the three fingers to slide in and out of him and Dean was more than ready.

“Promise to stop me if it hurts,” Cas ordered, as he squeezed more lube into his palm and coated the long length of his cock, “No matter how bad I want to fuck you, I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know, Cas, I know,” Dean whimpered, pushing back into the open air he knew his angel would soon be filling. “Come on, _need you_.”

Soon, Dean could feel the slippery, thick head of Cas’ cock teasing against him. Before both had enough, Dean decided to make a move of his own, and shoved all his body weight back against it. Instead of a strangled cry, Cas bit into the meat of Dean’s shoulder and grunted, while Dean sat back, _all the way_ \- sheathing Cas completely.

_Dumb move_ , Dean knew it was a dumb move because it hurt like a _bitch_ but it hurt in such a _good_ way.

Cas grabbed him by the back of the throat and led him forward, until Dean was on all fours, “I told you to _trust me_ , but obviously you want my cock a little more than I thought you did, _didn’t you_?”

Dean shuttered as Cas rolled his hips languidly inside him, getting him to loosen up and brushing _right_ up against that sweet spot again.

“Want _all_ of you, Cas, love you. Thought that was obvious,” Dean’s voice was broken and breathless as Cas found, just barely pressing, that spot over and over.

“And I, you, as well,” Cas placed a single kiss on his cheek and a warm pulse of heat lit up inside Dean, “Are you all right now, for me to move?”

“Please,” Dean nodded, but didn’t make any stupid choices like before, just slowly ground against him, “I’m all yours.”

Cas grinned again and his lips never left any part of Dean as he started pounding into him. And the promise was fulfilled, he nailed his prostrate with the first rough thrust, and never let up.

_Fuckin’ angels and their unlimited knowledge._

It reduced Dean to a mess of moans, almost-sobs, and the begging on repeat of, “Fuck, Cas, love you, make me cum, I’m gonna--”

Angel stamina was fucking great, because he didn’t have to slow down to catch his breath, if anything, he quickened his pace, with perfect precision every time, bringing Dean right to the place where he could see the stars-

He was screaming Cas’ name, felt the iron-like grip of the angel’s fingertips and the bulbs of the room flickering and _damn_ if he couldn’t feel a surge of grace ( _or more likely, cum_ ) inside him.

Dean was hoarse by the time he collapsed back to the bed, but with a snap of the angels fingers, clean and... Really happy when Cas laid down next to him. Dean had half the mind, Cas was going to already be clad in his angel-gear and trench coat, off on another mission.

But nope.

Here he was, next to Dean, pulling him into his arms and smiling. They laid there for a second, Dean catching his breath and Cas running his fingers through his hair. It wasn’t until he nearly dozed off that Dean realized that Cas had something else he was holding in his other hand.

“I’m glad you found this for me, Dean, but it wasn’t an urgent matter of returning it,” Cas ran his fingertips over the arrow head, “This was one of my first, to practice with before I was allowed to receive my missions.”

Dean rolled over in bed and glanced from the arrow to Cas, from Cas to the arrow on a loop, “Wait- _what are you talking about_?”

Cas cracked a smile, “You thought I’d leave something as dangerous as a magical love object just laying around with _you two_? I thought I had discarded it, but you must have picked it up in your clothing, you _are_ very messy. This arrow has never had any magic.”

Not only did Dean’s body freeze, but the blood in his veins, “Are you telling me...?”

The angel’s eyes widened with recognition, “You thought...?”

“ _Oh my fucking god_.”

“Please don’t use my father’s name in-”

“Ahh, whatever. Get your ass over here,” Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist and pulled him in for a kiss.

After a few languid kisses and tender nips, Dean pulled away and looked Cas directly in the eyes, “If you tell anyone I thought I was under cupid’s spell, I’ll get an angel blade and-”

“Yes. I’ll pretend we reached coitus under natural circumstances.” Cas grinned like a Cheshire cat, “As long as we may continue doing this.”

“Hell yes,” Dean shifted on top of his angel and lazily rolled his hips. “You won’t be able to keep me off you from now on.”

“Mm,” Cas lapped into Dean’s mouth, before pulling away, “I believe our cherub friend is fixing Sam right now. Although, it was quite rude of you to attempt to stab me with an arrow instead of just inquiring about whether or not I returned your affections.”

“Eh, what can I say,” Dean shrugged, “I don’t like being told no, but dude,” he leveled a glare to the angel under him, “No talking about Sam in situations like this, all right?”

Castiel nodded solemnly, “I’ll remember that.”

“ _Fuck_. I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, you are. But I love you anyway.”


End file.
